


Counting Bodies Like Sheep

by stilesune



Series: Rhythm of the War Drums [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Typical Violence, Depictions of animal death, For now at least. It's a continuing verse that I play with when feeling ~dark, Gen, Language, M/M, Pre-Slash, Werewolf!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-28
Updated: 2012-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-10 21:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilesune/pseuds/stilesune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The implications of this. That word. Pack. Until the moment he'd sunk his teeth into Stiles and felt the infection spreading in the human's blood as it spilled into his mouth, he hadn't comprehended it either. The enormity of what he was doing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just realized that I've never posted this here. It's a continuing verse that I like to dabble in occasionally, and I have the feeling I might do so tonight with another installment. So in case I do, I figured I'd post it here. I've changed some things from the original version on FFN, if you've read it there. I've now made Derek an Alpha to fit along with canon.

It's hard for him to comprehend exactly what's happening. He can see the basic outlines of two males – the two whose voices are splitting his head in two as everywhere else on his body begins to burn – and the treetops darkening in the dusk just above their heads.

It takes him a minute to focus in on their voices, takes him another minute to be able to understand the words they're blabbering are actually snippets from their argument.

"—you need to, or he's going to die." The older Beta wolf growls to the teen kneeling across from him, both holding vigil.

He feels pressure sliding against his chest as his fingers prod and looks down, craning his neck against the burning to try and find out why his chest hurts _so fucking much_. They come back soaked in blood. His blood.

It takes all of three seconds for Stiles Stilinski to run through his head everything that had happened and lead to him bleeding to death on the forest ground with pebbles and twigs digging into his back and leaves crunching under his head and elbows as he tries to sit up.

He and Scott had been leaving Derek's dilapidated house when they came out from behind the trees. With all the fighting that Derek and Scott had been doing for training, and Stiles eating popcorn while announcing commentary, neither of the wolves had heard the half dozen hunters making their way towards the house.

The three – two wolves and a human, outnumbered, outgunned and certainly screwed – took off into the woods to try and use home court advantage as means of escape. But Stiles wasn't as agile and fast as the wolves and ended up with a bullet straight into his back, exploding out of his chest. Everything after that was a blur of feet and inhuman growls with shotgun blasts and sizzles of electricity peppered in.

"Look, he's awake!" His obtuse best friend, Scott, stated triumphantly. "We just need to get him to the hospital and he'll be fine."

"No, he won't." Derek growled, "Trust me on this. He only has a few minutes, I can sense it."

"How?"

"I just can!" There's a look in Derek's eyes beneath the red anger his inner wolf emanated. With a deep breath through his nostrils, he calmed himself, "He has two options, Scott. He dies or he gets bitten."

"Do I get any say in this?" Stiles asked weakly, giving up on trying to sit up when his wound pulled and stretched. If he lived, he would be a werewolf. If he died… well that was pretty self-explanatory.

"No!" The wolves answered simultaneously, never taking their glowing eyes off one another. A werewolf pissing contest. Just what Stiles needed. If he weren't so tired, he'd crack a joke about watersports.

"Okay, hate to break up the wolf-off you guys are having, but I'm kinda dying here!" He spluttered, his lungs feeling weird as he tried to inhale. It was like he was drowning. He was smart enough to know that he wasn't far from dying like Derek had said. When you watch stuff like Grey's Anatomy for Katherine Heigl, you pick up on enough medical crap to know when you are completely and utterly screwed, even though you think you'll never have to apply it to actuality.

"I'm not biting him!" Scott staunchly refused. He couldn't do that to his best friend. He couldn't – _wouldn't_ – be the one to inflict that on Stiles, of all people. Jackson, maybe. But not Stiles.

"You wouldn't be able to anyways. It has to be me, an Alpha." Derek said, his voice tight with something Stiles couldn't place.

The human felt his stomach knot underneath all the agony he was in, when Derek directed his gaze down to him. He could practically see an apology written in his eyes. If that wasn't enough to set him on edge, he wasn't sure what could. But he had no time to contemplate it as he watched through blurring vision as Derek's body began to morph.

"Stiles!" Scott shouted, slapping his friend's face as his eyes closed and his head lolled. This wasn't right!

"Move." Derek growled, sitting on his haunches and looking so protective of Stiles in that one position that it sent Scott toppling on his ass in surprise.

With a growl that vibrated through the Earth and skittered through the core of trees to ruffle leaves, Derek clamped his jaws into Stiles' hip. Scott expected that to be it. A simple bite, like the Alpha did to him. But Derek stayed, and stayed, and stayed, unresponsive to Scott trying to get his attention and even when he tried pulling him off.

"Derek!" He yelled one final time, clawing down his back. He was fearful that if he just yanked him off, a chunk of Stiles' hip would go with him.

He groaned his way back to humanity, pushing down the Alpha wolf within him, writhing in the dirt as if he was taking on Stiles' pain. For all Scott knew, he could be. He had no idea what was going on and sometimes, he preferred it that way.

But Stiles still wasn't conscious, and the wound hadn't healed – then again, he rationalized to himself, his wasn't gone 'til the next day – so how were they to tell if it even worked? "Now what?"

"We wait to see if it worked."


	2. Chapter 2

There was no way they could take Stiles to the hospital. They knew it was working by the fact that he was still breathing, despite bleeding heavily still. Between the bullet wound and the bite, the only excuse was that his body was healing itself by replenishing the blood first while the rest slowly healed. If they took him to a hospital, it raised way too many questions. And this wasn't some half-baked TV show where they could just make anyone do what they wanted with simple eye contact.

"His father!" Scott's voice broke through the silence suddenly, irritating Derek more than usual.

"Take care of it."

"But Stiles–"

"I'll watch over him. He's part of my pack now; he's my responsibility to keep safe. But he's your best friend, which means that because you know his people, he's yours to make sure no one comes looking for. At least for the next twenty-four hours." Derek's tone was final as he kept his eyes locked on the paler than normal boy. He didn't relax a bit, even when Scott left and he was alone.

The implications of this. That word. _Pack_. Until the moment he'd sunk his teeth into Stiles and felt the infection spreading in the human's blood as it spilled into his mouth, he hadn't comprehended it either. The enormity of what he was doing.

He'd just bonded himself to another human being – in a manner of speaking – for the rest of their lives. However long those lives were, given their circumstance. After spending years alone, getting his kicks and bailing as quickly as he could, distancing himself from anyone that wasn't his sister…

This happens.

Out of everyone – _everyone_ – on the planet, and he was bonded to _Stiles_.

But the alternative wasn't an option, either. Not for him and certainly not for Scott. One less human would fix some of their complications, but it would also sit heavily. Scott would lose his best friend, the town would question the brutal death seemingly made by a human and not an animal (the son of the Sheriff, no less), and Derek would have the death of a sixteen year old on his conscious for the rest of his life.

He could endure a lot of things, but that wasn't one of them. A morality his sister had shoved down his throat in a time that all he wanted was revenge for their family and fuck the dominoes that fell.

He was going to have to teach this kid. More than he'd ever had to teach Scott and Scott wasn't even his charge. Ten times more than Isaac and Erica and Boyd. Stiles would be ingrained to listen to him, to trust him, which would make the process a lot easier… if the kid wasn't addicted to Adderall and didn't have the attention span of gnat.

This was a complication.

Derek's ears twitched on an irregular heartbeat and shift in breathing. Stiles was coming to and feeling the pain. Not half an hour before when the Alpha had checked on his new packmate, his bullet wounds had mostly healed themselves. His body had worked overtime to fix the fatal injuries. He knew Stiles would be confused, in pain, drained. So he knelt next to the couch to keep the kid blocked in so he didn't get the idea to panic and bolt.

He studied the younger wolf as he slowly came around and looked himself over. He could smell the strength of another Beta added to his pack, knew that his other three members could feel the sudden addition in their strength. It was going to be tricky to see how he got along with the others. They had no prior knowledge of how this worked before being bit, hadn't a clue what every little nuance meant in their world. Unlike Stiles. He was also loyal and strong and the glue that kept Scott together most of the time. Not Allison, _Stiles_. His friendship anchored him more than anything.

Derek envied that sometimes about Scott, who could often take advantage of what exactly it is he has.

"Go slow. You're not like Scott who was able to get up and walk away. You were nearly dead when I bit you. You'll have a longer recovery time." Derek kept his hand pressed gently to the groggy teen's shoulder. He wasn't about to go through the physical pain _he_ had to endure too – with changing someone else, feeling like that person was infecting his very soul as well as they connected – just to have the kid irritate his still healing wounds by being his jittery self who had to be walking or pacing or just moving in general. He'd sit on him if it meant he'd stay still at this point.

And that's probably what it'd take, knowing Stiles.

"So, basically, you changed me," was the first thing Stiles said, "Without knowing if it'd work? Without my consent? Why?"

Derek chose not to verbally respond, but he knew that the answer was as clear as day. Especially when Stiles' head tilted curiously when Derek's heart skipped a beat in a fearful response to the question. He'd hoped not to have to go down that road. He'd hoped that Stiles wouldn't remember in his last moments Derek's desperation to change him, to _save_ him. The almost need in his voice as he argued with Scott to use their gift (or curse, as Scott referred to it) to keep him alive.

"So, can I ask you a question?" Stiles started, his face the picture of seriousness. When no refusal or confirmation came either way, he asked: "Do you find me attractive?"

Stiles knew he was playing with fire as he listened to the harsh breaths from the angry wolf next to him, his heart racing in his chest as he refrained from showing the new Beta who was boss. But he figured it was a good start to things if Derek's first instinct wasn't to rip his throat out with his teeth anymore.

For now, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my original foray into the Teen Wolf fandom, based off a prompt in the kink meme on LiveJournal. Fun little tidbit there. :)


End file.
